Don't Know Where, Don't Know When
by AuroraBraelinVonHaus
Summary: This is my post ep. for 6.09. One shot.


**Don't know where, don't know when**

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

The story made sense to Kate. Tyson was dead. Kelly Nieman, his girlfriend or whatever she was, orchestrated this whole thing. Tyson had taught her all she knew. The note that had been left on the desk in the deserted office _Better luck next time_ taunted her.

Castle plugged in the flash drive into his laptop, extraordinarily curious about what was on it, and yet, there was a knife twisting in his gut, telling him to walk away. He didn't want to know what was on it. What he didn't know, didn't hurt, right? Except, if this was what he thought it might be - proof that 3XK was alive - then not knowing would be much, much worse. He couldn't be the NYPD in this. He couldn't bury his head in the sand and just let this happen. 3XK had once bested him, and that sick son of a bitch wasn't wrong when he said this was eating him alive, because it was.

He lived with it daily, and now, he had the blood of more victims on his hands. No matter what Kate said, this was _his_ fault.

The flash drive loaded, painfully slow. He wanted to vomit when he pulled up the audio file. Was it a message? A lead? _Something_ that would make Kate stop looking at him like he was crazy? Then again, he didn't want her to stop looking at him like he was crazy. Her doubt, gave him doubt. Maybe the son of a bitch _was_ dead, and he would like nothing more than that particular dream to be realized. He would gladly allow Kate to give him the 'I told you so' speech if it meant he was dead, but with no body, he believed there was no death, and Tyson was still out there.

Castle hit play, waited that extra second for whatever was in the audio file. What he heard, he wasn't expecting, but the weight of the day still rested on his shoulders and continued running through his brain on repeat. _We'll meet again….don't know where, don't know when…._

Kate had been walking towards Castle's office to see what he had discovered, but when the 1930's song graced her ears and flooded through the apartment, the words hit her, like a freight train with no breaks. Her heart skipped beats, and it was just on this side of painful. She looked at Castle, and the second she realized the meaning of what she was listening to - a message and warning - she flinched.

Castle stepped forward, eyes on Kate. _But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day…_

They stood, saying nothing, doing nothing but looking at each other in the dimly lit loft. He was trying to read her, and take in the panicked expression on her face that made her look so fragile.

Kate felt herself beginning to believe what Castle was believing. Tyson was toying with them, with them both, but mostly with Castle, and that hurt her more than the number of victims that were piling up because of this murderer.

She allowed herself that moment to believe it was true, that he was alive, and then her brain started to work again, replaying what happened on that bridge and reaffirming her belief that Castle had shot him and he was dead. "I know what you're thinking," Kate spoke up, finally her brain sending the right messages to her vocal chords. "It's not him."

She moved around her fiancé and marched up to the laptop and pulled the flash drive from it. The music stopped instantly. Kate looked down at the half pen in her hand, which was shaking worse than she had ever seen it shake before, even during a PTSD episode, which thankfully, since she had been with Castle, were minimized. A strong hand touched hers, the touch as electric as ever, and slightly calming.

Castle slipped the drive through her fingers and set it down on the desk. He looked at her, his eyes hard, and yet full of such concern for her. She looked away, bottom lip sucked between her teeth.

"Why can't you just open your eyes and _see_ it, Kate?" Castle whispered, as though a loud voice would shatter everything around them. He could feel her shaking, and he could see her trying to hide behind her wall. She sometimes forgot that he was within her walls now, and could see the things she didn't want him to see. He still loved her anyway.

"It's not him. How many times do I have to... "

"No, how many times do I have to tell you?" he said more forcefully. "I am not wrong about this. That..." he pointed at the flash drive, "_that_ is a message, from _him_. I know it is. Kate, trust me."

"Rick," a hand reached up to his cheek, thumb pad caressing it reassuringly. "It's a message, I agree. But it's not from him. It's from _her_. She's toying with us. She set up Espo and Laine so she could get the files. She thinks she's avenging him."

"Do you remember what I told you on the bridge that night?"

She remembered. It was public, and it was final, and the wanted man stopped being wanted. She nodded her head. "But Castle, you _shot _him, and then he fell a hundred feet."

Castle pulled away from her, and she almost whimpered at the loss of his heat. He leaned back on the desk and looked at her, considered her for a long moment. "You know what, Kate?" His tone shifted, edging towards pissed off and she felt like a deer frozen in the headlights. "You shot him, too." Period, end of story. "And he was still able to knock you around."

Kate stepped back, feeling like she had just been slapped.

"Why can't you open yourself up to the possibility that he might be alive? Operate under the assumption that he is. Don't be Gates, or whoever else in the NYPD who have their heads shoved so far up their asses that they can't string together the clues, and would rather save themselves the embarrassment."

Kate clenched her teeth. Yes, she had shot him, and still, he managed to get the better of her.

"He wants to destroy me," Castle whispered, his fingers deftly twirling the flash drive on the desk behind him. "And… and if… anything were to happen… to _you_… I just…" he shook his head, words not finding their way through his mouth any longer. If anything happened to Kate, that _would_ destroy him. She was like the air he breathed, and he couldn't live without her.

The detective stepped forward, close to his body, feeling her own irritation floating away within seconds, as she saw him turn back into that scared little boy she remembered sitting in holding at the precinct, while she questioned him about the alleged affair documented in emails that Castle didn't have. The worst part about that, she knew, was that for a while, she allowed him to believe she doubted him, and that killed her inside, knowing that she needed time to sort through everything.

Her hands touched his biceps, gently massaging up and down as she tried to pull his attention back to her. The problem was, his attention was already on her, but he wasn't seeing her now. His mind was focused on the worst case scenario, a curse that came with being a mystery writer. "Castle," she breathed against his cheek. Foreheads touched. "Castle. Rick."

"It'd be my fault. It's all my fault." His body shuddered with the admission. "I am to blame."

"Shhh," she cooed. "It's not your fault, Castle. It's not. You've been carrying around this thing for so long now…."

"I should have looked at the files more closely. I should have… I should have made copies…" Set up his own murder board went unsaid, but Kate understood. She had been there with her mother's murder. Her own murder board had once been trapped against her window. While Castle's was a little more high-tech, she understood what he meant. It was all the same.

"Rick, listen to me. Are you listening?" Her hand tilted his jaw, forcing his ocean blues to her. "Are you listening?" He nodded. "Don't do this to yourself. Stop chasing ghosts. Please, don't fall down that same rabbit hole you just rescued me from. If he's alive, we'll get him. We'll get justice for his victims." It just wouldn't be today, and the sentiment was very familiar to her, but she had to give Castle _something._ IF the bastard was alive.

"I can't lose you," he pleaded.

_This man,_ she thought to herself. "We'll get them both. I promise."

His lips crashed against hers, fierce in their passion. As his tongue claimed dominance inside her welcoming mouth, she couldn't help but feel like he was marking his territory, and she liked that she was his territory. It turned her on more than she was willing to admit to anyone, even him. His arms were around her, tugging her forcefully close to his body.

Seconds, minutes, hours (who the eff knows?) passed and their lips parted with heated breaths and heaving chests. His eyes sought hers as his still shaking hand moved along her side. His eyes said it all. He didn't want to fall down that rabbit hole. He wanted to forget, and only Kate had the power to help him with both - at least for the night. Tomorrow, he hoped it would be easier.

Kate attacked his lips again, giving into her own need to forget. They both had seen the bodies of their two friends who were not their friends. What if that had been Castle's doppelganger? Clearly, Nieman had a vendetta against the Twelfth. What if it had been _Castle_?

Castle swept his arm across his desk, throwing everything - ranging from his laptop to the trinket the time traveler Simon Doyle used - down to the floor with multiple crashes and bangs that he would regret in the morning, but right now, he had a specific need, and Kate understood, not at all surprised when he turned them and pressed her against the desk.

Tonight, everything would be okay, even though they both knew this was far from over.

But tomorrow?

_We'll meet again….don't know where, don't know when…._

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_A/N: I love reviews? Lol_


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